


you're a loaded gun (and my finger's on the trigger)

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gunplay, Joker as a semi-separate entity from Akira, M/M, Selfcest, goro was not prepared for this, joker is a possessive son of a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17152655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: The first time Goro had kissed Akira, he had halfway expected resistance from Niijima, or Takamaki, or Sakamoto at the very least.Instead, it comes from an entirely unanticipated corner.Takes place shortly beforemy heart will destroy us.





	you're a loaded gun (and my finger's on the trigger)

**Author's Note:**

> This was technically written for the Kinktober 2018 prompt "gunplay," but it's long enough to stand on its own.

Goro’s mouth is pleasantly occupied with Akira’s when he hears the distinctive _click_ of a safety coming off and something cold and hard presses against his temple. Akira’s lips pull back from his, and Goro opens his eyes to Akira’s disbelieving face - but Akira’s not looking at him, he’s looking off to Goro’s left, at the owner of the gun.

“Stand up. Slowly,” Akira says, only his lips haven’t moved, and Goro rolls his eyes to the side to see -

Joker, in the coat and the mask and the blood-red gloves, holding a familiar gun to Goro’s temple - but Akira is still a solid presence underneath Goro’s legs, and when Goro’s eyes flick back to Akira’s face it’s set in a displeased scowl and _not_ , Goro notes distantly, any sort of surprise.

“What are you _doing_ ,” Akira hisses at - at himself, hands flexing on Goro’s thighs, which is - Goro supposes that is a relevant question but he’d much more like to know _what the hell is going on_.

“Akira,” he says with what he thinks is admirable calm, under the circumstances. Akira’s eyes jerk back to his, and his face softens into something like apology.

“This probably looks weird,” he says, which is the understatement of the century.

“It’s not that hard,” Joker says. “I am thou, thou art I, only a little more literal.” He puts pressure on the gun and Goro is forced to follow it, shifting back off of Akira and off the bed until he’s standing, hands out at his sides, facing identical sets of gray eyes and the barrel of a gun that looks more real than Goro would like.

Putting aside for a moment the sheer impossibility of what he’s seeing - one of Akira is challenging enough. Goro is not sure how he’s supposed to deal with _two_ of him.

Two of him who apparently don’t have the same agenda, if the way Akira is glaring at his double is any indication.

Joker advances a step, and then another, moving Goro back until his shoulders hit Akira’s shelf of souvenirs. Joker’s eyes are heavy on Goro as Joker reaches out and cards his free hand through Akira’s hair; despite the scowl on his face Akira leans into it minutely, as if by instinct, as if they’ve done this before.

Then Joker is sliding onto Akira’s lap and his mouth is on Akira’s and despite the surprised noise Akira makes they’ve _definitely_ done this before; the way Akira’s hands go immediately to Joker’s hips and the way he tilts his head to avoid the mask speak to a familiarity that really, _really_ should not appeal as much as it does.

There are a lot of things about this scenario that _shouldn’t_ be happening, Goro thinks faintly, breath catching in his lungs as Joker teases Akira’s mouth open with his lips. Why not add one more to the list.

Joker slants him a sideways look as Akira’s mouth moves against his. The gun is resting on Joker’s thigh, but there’s a clear indication in the set of Joker’s eyes that it could be raised again at any moment. It’s a clear dismissal, and as much as Goro hates being chased off from anything...perhaps discretion is the better part of valor, here.

He takes a cautious step away, toward the stairs, and Joker’s eyes turn smug. He shifts against Akira, rolling their hips together, and Akira moans into his mouth.

Goro needs to - Goro is just going to -

Joker’s finger slips over the trigger of the gun, and this is a tactical retreat, Goro tells himself as he backs away toward the stairs. He’s - yes. He’s just going to - go, and not think about the arch of Akira’s neck as Joker tilts his head back, about Joker’s hand in Akira’s hair, firm and demanding and possessive.

He fails absolutely miserably at this.

Some days and more shameful jerk-off sessions than he would care to admit to later, Goro considers his options. Clearly, pretending nothing had happened isn’t working; every time he closes his eyes, it seems like, he sees Joker’s eyes hot and heavy over the barrel of a gun. It doesn’t help that Akira had clearly been - _familiar_ , Goro is going to say, with this manifestation of his other self. Goro has no idea how that works, but it wouldn’t be the first time Akira has surprised him and Goro would be lying more than he usually does if he didn’t acknowledge a certain...appeal.

The message, however, couldn’t have been clearer: _back off_. Goro wonders what it says about Akira that he’s apparently of two minds about Goro; what it says about _him_ that both sides of Akira have their own fascination. He wonders which one he would get if he tried to kiss Akira in Mementos, or if it would be some blending of both. He composes at least seven different texts to Akira and erases each one without sending it; he can’t figure out a good way to say _watching you kiss yourself was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I’d like to do it again_. That lacks a certain finesse, even leaving aside the possibility that he might get himself shot.

In the end, perhaps direct action is the way forward.

He’s waiting in his usual spot at _Leblanc’s_ counter when Akira gets home. Goro looks up when the door jingles open, right on schedule, and because he’s watching he sees the way Akira’s face brightens momentarily when he catches sight of Goro. His expression smooths itself out a moment later, but Goro finds himself smiling nonetheless, his mouth pulling up without even having to think about it.

Looks like he still has an in, at least. He sets his cup down carefully, breathing deliberately even as his pulse picks up. Time to see how far he can push it.

“Akira. May I have a word? In private,” he adds when Akira glances at Sakura, who is frankly not pretending very hard to be reading his paper.

Akira tilts his head a fraction, as if listening to something only he can hear; and that very might well be what he _is_ doing, Goro realizes. Goro has no idea the extent of Joker’s influence, of their...relationship.

Akira rolls his shoulders. “Sure. C’mon.” He nods at Sakura who huffs and turns a page, waving Akira on by. Morgana pokes his head out of Akira’s schoolbag and makes a graceful leap onto one of the chairs as Akira passes, giving Akechi a disdainful look.

“Akira told me what happened last time,” he says, and the shade of smugness in his tone pricks irritation up Goro’s spine. “Good luck.”

Goro refuses to dignify that with an answer. He pulls out some cash and leaves it on the counter, sliding off his chair. If this goes badly - if this goes badly, in the _best_ -case scenario he’ll be leaving in too much of a hurry to settle up with Sakura. He doesn’t plan on this going badly, but best to plan for all eventualities.

“Godspeed,” Sakura says into his paper, and Goro pauses, glancing between him and Morgana, who is busy washing his face. That appears to be all Sakura has to say on the matter, and Goro’s not - he’s not _that_ transparent, is he? Surely not.

It doesn't matter. Akira’s waiting for him upstairs.

He’s alone, too, which Goro had only half expected. Akira’s schoolbag sits discarded by the stairs, and he’s fiddling with the knick-knacks on his shelves, picking up a plastic ramen bowl and moving it one centimeter to the left. As Goro watches he hesitates, then picks it back up and returns in to its original position.

Goro clears his throat and Akira turns, face guarded.

“About last time -” he says just as Goro starts, “I’d hoped -”

They stop at the same time and Akira lets out a small laugh, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

Goro folds his hands tightly. “I can wait. Please.” He nods and Akira takes a deep breath before continuing.

“About last time - I’m sorry,” he says all in a rush. “He - I - he gets...protective.”

Protective is the least of it. “An admirable sentiment.” Goro moves over to stand next to Akira, studying the shelves. They’re remarkably clean for someone with Akira’s schedule. “Are you two truly separate, then?”

Akira laughs again but it’s devoid of much humor. “No. Maybe? I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know how _any_ of this works, really - I just know that it does.” Akira scrubs a hand through his hair again. “He’s me, and I’m him, and most of the time it doesn’t matter, but…” he trails off, and Goro thinks he can fill in the rest.

“Unless you have a difference of opinion.” Goro turns to face Akira. “Lucky me.”

Akira’s eyes narrow the tiniest bit, and Goro wonders if he’s given away more than he meant to with that.

“Anyway.” Akira picks a piece of invisible lint - or maybe cat hair - from his sleeve. “You had something you wanted to say?”

He did. “It’s actually less something I want to _say_ ,” Goro says as he steps in close. Akira’s eyes are wary but he doesn’t tell Goro to stop, even when Goro slides a hand around the back of Akira’s neck. “At least, not to you.”

Goro can feel Akira’s startled inhale against his lips, but his mouth is warm and _hungry_ against Goro’s when Goro closes the final few centimeters between them. For a long moment, Goro lets himself just enjoy this: the warmth of Akira’s mouth, his hands settling on Goro’s hips, his faint sigh as Goro tilts his head to make the angle better.

Then there’s a forceful grip on the back of his collar and a leg sweeping his feet out from under him and the air leaves his lungs all in a rush as his back hits the floor. _Right on schedule_ , he thinks dizzily as a weight drops onto his stomach and Joker’s furious face comes into view. Joker jams the barrel of his gun into the soft skin under Goro’s jaw, tilting his head back until Goro has to look down his nose to keep him in view. Akira makes an outraged noise somewhere in the background, but right now Goro’s focus is narrowed down to the pair of scowling gray eyes behind the bone-white mask.

“Ah,” he wheezes before Joker can open his mouth. “There you are.”

Joker pauses, leaning back, although the gun stays pressed against Goro’s skin.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Goro continues, and Joker’s lip curls.

“You can’t sweet-talk your way past me,” he snarls, leaning forward again, putting his face right up next to Goro’s.

“I don’t intend to,” Goro replies, grabbing the lapel of Joker’s coat and jerking him forward those last few centimeters to seal their mouths together.

Joker starts against him but Goro slides an arm around his back, holding him close. It’s _almost_ like kissing Akira: their mouths have the same heat and they both make the same startled inhale when surprised. But Akira’s lips have never been so still against his own, and there’s a long moment when Goro thinks he’s gotten this all wrong -

Then Joker’s pressing back against him, crushing their mouths together until Goro can feel the hint of teeth. Joker crowds against him, pushing him back into the floor and stealing the breath from Goro’s lungs. Joker nips at his lower lip even as he maintains his grip on the gun, pressed cold and solid against Goro’s skin. Goro brings his free hand up to lay over Joker’s wrist; not to pull the gun away, but just to feel the tendons flex under his hand as Joker grinds the gun into his throat. He’s going to have a bruise there, and that will be hard to explain away but it is worth it, in this moment, to have Joker kissing him fiery and passionate as Goro knows him to be.

Eventually they have to break apart to breathe, and Joker leans back, eyes measuring even with his lips red and wet. He eases up the tiniest bit of pressure on the gun, and Goro swallows, feeling the barrel move against his throat. Joker licks his lips and his wrist flexes under Goro’s hand.

Goro risks a glance over Joker’s shoulder at Akira. It’s chancy, to take his eyes off Joker - especially with the gun still pressed to his throat - but the sight of Akira frozen mid-step, a blush high on his cheeks and his pupils blown wide, is its own reward. Akira visibly swallows and pushes himself back into motion, coming to kneel next to them on the floor, one hand sliding up Joker’s back to come to rest on his shoulder.

“I think -” Akira clears his throat and tries again. “I think there’s room here for compromise.” Joker leaves off staring at Goro and looks at Akira; Goro’s familiar with the phrase _wordless communication_ , of course, but he’s never seen it played out so perfectly as here, a whole conversation seeming to take place in seconds. Akira’s eyebrows raise and Joker frowns; Joker starts to open his mouth and Akira shakes his head. Akira’s hand tightens on Joker’s shoulder and Joker scowls, looking back down at Goro, but as he does his expression fades into something more thoughtful. He lifts the gun away from Goro’s throat, shaking off Goro’s hand and holstering the gun in one smooth movement.

“That’s quite the argument,” he says, reaching out and rubbing his thumb over the sore spot where the gun had pressed into Goro’s skin. Akira rests his chin on Joker’s shoulder, watching, and Goro shivers. “Are you sure you can back it up?”

Goro’s never been surer of anything in his life. “Absolutely,” he breathes. Greatly daring, he reaches out to settle his hands on Joker’s thighs.

Joker’s grin is a gleaming slash beneath the mask. “All right then.” He leans forward, caging Goro in with his arms. “Convince me.”

Goro does his best. He already knows that Joker likes things a little rougher, a little _meaner_ than Akira does; he leans up and takes Joker’s lower lip between his lip and bites down, not hard enough to break the skin, just hard enough to draw an interested sound out of Joker’s lungs. He slides his hands up under the coat, along Joker’s back, feeling the flex of muscle underneath his hands. He breaks off the kiss and drags his teeth down the line of Joker’s jaw, down his throat, and Joker blows out a shaky breath in Goro’s ear. Goro digs his fingers into Joker’s back and recaptures his mouth, putting everything he has into it. Whatever Joker wants him to say, he’ll say, but he has a feeling they’re at a point where actions speak louder than words, so he hopes the kiss speaks for him: _try me_ and _whatever it takes_ and _I’m not going anywhere._

Joker sighs into his mouth and shifts back, licking his lips as he sits up. “ _Very_ convincing.” He turns and presses his lips briefly to Akira’s temple. “You win. He can stay.”

“Thanks,” Akira says dryly, but he turns and captures Joker’s mouth in a kiss that has Joker humming and swaying into him. Goro’s hands flex involuntarily where they’ve come to rest on Joker’s thighs and Joker grins into Akira’s mouth. He blinks when Akira pulls away, a soft smile playing around his mouth, and shoots a sidelong glance at Goro.

“I’ll leave you kids to it,” he says with a wink, and then he’s gone; no rush of displaced air, no slinking shadows, just there and gone, the weight on Goro’s stomach vanishing between one breath and the next.

Goro looks a question at Akira and Akira shrugs.

“He keeps his own schedule,” he says. “He’ll usually come if I ask, but the rest of the time…” He shrugs again.

“Fascinating,” Goro says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. It really is; but then so are many things about Akira. Why should this be the exception?

Akira glances out the window at the darkening sky. The shadows have gone long and slanted, the sun setting quickly in these winter months. “It’s getting late,” he says, shooting a sideways look at Goro. “Did you – you could stay. If you want.”

Goro _definitely_ wants. He reaches out for Akira’s hand, gratified when Akira immediately takes it and laces their fingers together. “Are we likely to be interrupted?”

Akira grins. “Depends. Do you want to be?”

Goro leans over and Akira meets him halfway, lips soft and warm and perfect. Goro could spend hours like this, dissecting the differences between Akira’s and Joker’s kisses, each one more addicting than the last.

Maybe he’ll even get to, he thinks as he pulls back, squeezing Akira’s hand. “I’ll take my chances.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at thirtysixsavefiles on [Tumblr](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/thirtysixsavefiles)!


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